


The Greatest Gift

by Breathesgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: Hermione's Haven, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 22:32:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16819735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breathesgirl/pseuds/Breathesgirl
Summary: What happened to Santa Claus? Where is he? And who is that who looks like him?





	The Greatest Gift

**Author's Note:**

> I looked for Santa's Villiage in the Swiss Alps, and this is what I found. I hope I did the story justice.

“Did I get it right?” Santa asked his wife from the corner of his mouth as yet another dunderhead squealed happily as it ran toward its mother after telling him some tall tale about how it had been soooooo good all year and deserved to receive everything on its Christmas list.

His wife just sighed, yet again, then leaned down and whispered in her husband’s ear, “not quite, Sev...er...um..Santa.” She glanced at the next child in line, saw that although he was anxious for his turn, he was being rather good about waiting. “You need to be jollier.”

Santa scowled at his wife, “I am as far from the ‘Jolly Old Elf” as it is possible to be and still be on the same planet,” he grumbled as his scowl landed on the child who was getting impatient about having to wait so long to sit on an old man’s lap.

Mrs. Santa stood abruptly and tugged her husband’s hand just as the silent alarm on her wand vibrated. Her temper was starting to flare, and it was time for their next Polyjuice dose soon anyway. She smiled uncomfortably at the crowd of children and their parents. “Santa will be back in just a few minutes,” she said to the waiting line up, although her translation charm let them hear it in French, German or Italian since they were at Santa’s House in Montreux, Switzerland, high in the Swiss Alps, near Lake Geneva. The charm also let them understand what other people were saying since they weren’t fluent in any of the local dialects.

She towed her husband back into Santa’s private quarters and made sure the silencing charms were in place before she finally allowed herself to slump: Playing Make believe was harder than she remembered it being as a child. She took a couple of deep breaths to help calm herself then glared at Santa, “Severus,” she said while trying not to grit her teeth, “I know you are not Santa,” she took another calming breath and flopped down on the couch. “We are stuck here for the time being; at least until Harry returns. It’s not my fault You-Know-Who’s followers decided to kidnap the real Santa. Nor is it my fault that Harry was called to track them down and bring him back so he can make his deliveries at Christmas, even though he did volunteer to play the role. I swear by Morgana and Merlin, if you don’t cheer up and be jolly, I will hit you with so many cheering charms you’ll have no choice BUT to play the part correctly!”

Santa Severus sat on the chair opposite Hermione, back as straight as ever, his face was not the blank most people were used to seeing though. He was scowling at his wife, and wishing that they had decided to vacation anywhere other than the Swiss Alps: even The Devil’s Triangle would have been preferable to toadying to the miniature dunderheads!

“Remind me again why we came to Montreux rather than simply freezing at the North Pole, or burning up down under?” He growled. He knew why they were there: he had wished to let Hermione live one of her childhood dreams of playing the part of Mrs. Santa and bringing joy to the children. He shook his head: He should have known that any plan involving _Potter_ would not go to plan. _Potter_ had volunteered to play her counterpart for the month The House of Santa Claus on Rochers-de-Naye was open to the public. Naturally the real Santa and his wife had been kidnapped. Naturally _Potter_ had been called in to hunt down the kidnappers and rescue the Clauses. And **naturally** he, Severus, had been cajoled, by his own wife no less, into playing Santa for the duration. “Why couldn’t Weasley play Santa again?” He asked, whined really, as he wondered whether _Potter_ were cursed to live in interesting times.

Hermione sighed, “I know you’re not enjoying yourself Severus,” she got up and knelt in front of her husband, “but I really do appreciate the fact you’re doing this for me. How was I supposed to know they were going to kidnap Santa?”

Severus smirked, “because _Potter_ is involved. There was no hope this would go to plan with _him_ involved. Are you sure he hasn’t been cursed with some variation of Living In Interesting Times?” He already knew the answer to that one as well since he had cast the diagnostic himself and gloated when it had come back negative: _Potter_ was simply a trouble magnet.

Hermione sighed and offered Severus a flask, “drink up. Only a couple more hours tonight then we can relax by the fireside, drink something a lot more pleasant tasting, and be ourselves for a while.” She tipped back her own flask and took a swallow before she transformed back into herself and had to deal with the pain and unpleasantness associated with the initial transformation.

* * *

* * *

“Really Severus,” Hermione sighed as she snuggled into her husband’s side as they tried to relax in front of the fire several hours later. Despite the fact he’d had a shower, then a calming draught, he was still fidgety. 

“How," he growled low in his throat, “can a parent **not** make sure a child doesn’t leave home with pranking objects?”

Hermione giggled; that had been pretty funny, “why didn’t you check your seat before sitting down?”

Severus smirked, although Hermione couldn’t see it. “Who said it was one of the dunderheads?” He asked, laughing outright when his wife shot up, nearly hitting her head on his chin.

“You?” She shouted. “You put the whoopie cushion on Santa’s chair?”

Severus laughed at her reaction and nodded, “we both know that there was no way I would ever come across as jolly, it is just not in my nature to be so. So I decided that I would give them a reason for Santa to be grouchy instead?”

Hermione slapped him lightly on the arm and scowled darkly, “you are an incredible actor then.” She then giggled and affected her best grouchy Severus voice, “when I get back to my workshop and look at my lists,” she stopped to glare at the imaginary line of children in front of them, “the one who did this,” she pointed to the seat beside her as Santa had done just that afternoon, “can expect nothing but coal and switches!”

Severus laughed at her horrible impersonation, “an impersonator is not in your list of qualifications, dear,” he said, then pulled her to him and kissed the crown of her head, “You do have to admit though, the improved attitude, rather the lack of attitude was very much welcome. Even the elves were starting to grumble about some of them.” Hermione nodded. It was true, the elves, who loved just about everybody, were starting to get rather grouchy themselves, so it had been in everybody’s best interests to have a grouchy Santa.

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Santa saw when Harry and Ron walked into the Chateau. What made them do a double take was the fact they were looking at their normal selves as well. Hermione raised her eyebrow at her best friends and received a subtle nod from Harry in confirmation. Her hand closed tightly around Severus’, they could be themselves again. She glanced subtly at her watch just as her wand vibrated silently. She smiled brightly, “we have time for one more child, then Santa needs to do his last minute preparations to deliver your gifts tonight.”

There were groans from the children and sighs of relief from the parents, the insanity was nearly done for another year!

As soon as they were behind the privacy wards in Santa’s private quarters Hermione squealed and jumped into her best friend’s arms, “you did it! You found them!”

Harry laughed as he set Hermione on her feet, having noticed his former professor’s glare, and took a step back, “we did, and we even managed to get them back in time to deliver the presents tonight.”

Severus stepped forward and extended his hand to his current doppelgänger, “I knew how difficult can be to deal with children on a daily basis, but this,” he nodded to indicate the whole of the House, “is a whole new level of insanity.’

The real Santa grasped Severus’ hand and nodded, “it is. But, it is infinitely easier than it used to be. having to depend on the postal service and eavesdropping elves to get the pertinent information. Now they all have a place to go, the post has a designated address, and I can relax since I have a portal back to the real workshop for times when my presence is demanded.”

Severus nodded, he hadn’t thought of it in that vein before. “How do you stay in such a bloody good mood all the time though?” Hermione asked as she put her arm around her husband’s waist.

Santa smiled, “How did your husband manage to get through the last two weeks?” Hermione’s mouth dropped open in shock, then she joined the others in laughing at the though of Santa playing pranks on himself.

* * *

Hermione sighed contentedly as she snuggled under the covers and up to her husband, finally in their own bed for the first time in more than two weeks, happy that things had worked out in the end, and that she had gotten to live out one of her childhood dreams.

She woke the next morning to the squeals of her honorary nieces and nephews as they came through the floo with their parents. She scrambled out of bed before they could wake her in their usual way, by jumping on the bed, and straight into the loo to freshen up and give the children a chance to calm a little. By the time she got to the lounge they were sitting impatiently, except for the one whose job it was this year to hand out the gifts.

James didn’t see anything unusual about gifts from Santa to the adults since it was a tradition in the Potter family since his earliest memories; what made them stand out was their sheer extravagance once they were opened.

“Dad?” James asked as as he saw the small but expensive looking case. Harry’s eyes went wide as he read the card attached.

Harry smiled and rushed off with a quick, “back in a moment,” thrown over his shoulder. When he returned his ever present glasses were nowhere to be seen. His smile was even bigger as he explained, “Santa gave me Ever Elean contact lenses. I never have to take them out!”

Ron nearly jumped out of his seat as his gift started talking! To him! Specifically! He then squealed like a girl as he read the card, “guys!” He exclaimed, “I got a personalized Chudley Cannons poster! Each of the players recorded a greeting just for me!"

Hermione lifted out the Ever Cold Snowflake from its gift box and smiled happily at it as she read the card. “Apparently,” she said, “this will remain a snowflake as long as it remains near ambient magic.” She didn’t tell the rest of it since the children were there, but it was also a portal to Santa’s house, good each year from November 24 to December 24, for two.

Severus was floored by his gift: Ever Full and Ever Fresh potions ingredients jars which would never be empty or go stale once he put an ingredient in each.

There was plenty of oohing and ahing over their gifts as they let the children open some of their presents. When the adults turns came round again they were still just as floored as they had been the first time around. “Harry,” Ginny asked as she poked her husband in the leg. “We’re going to the Quidditch World Cup for as long as we live?” She almost, almost squealed. The children squealed with her when they heard that since they were just as ardent fans as their Uncle Ron.

Ron almost cried when he opened his self-updating copy of a first edition Quidditch Through the Ages which was charmed to read to him itself using the voices of Quidditch players through the ages.

“Oh!” Hermione exclaimed after putting on what looked like muggle sunglasses. “I owe Luna an apology,” she continued. “These glasses allow me to see the wrackspurts, nargles and other things she can!”

Severus received the oldest copy ever seen to date of _Defense Against the Dark Arts: A Manual for Self Defense_. “Hermione,” he said as he read the last thing in the box. “How would you like to go to the moon, for the honeymoon we never took, with me next summer?”


End file.
